This Body

This body has done everything I’ve asked of it. Since I was 10 months old and taking my first steps, this body has been my chief form of transportation – and my most reliable one. It’s conveyed me to the tops of Mount Rainier, Baker, Adams and Hood. It’s brought me through amazing places of meadows and waterfalls, and sparkling deserts – taken me through foreign streets and foreign landscapes, and through the gardens and orchards of my own backyard. This body has run races, and jumped over high jump bars, caught baseballs and served volleyballs and swung a tennis racket. Its hands have clasped other hands in friendship, stroked my babies’ foreheads as they drifted into sleep, bandaged knees, tied shoes, painted and typed and weeded the garden. This body has given me the means to dance and sing. It’s birthed my two sons for me. Its eyes have given me a means to see the beauty surrounding me, and its ears have given me access to music and laughter. This body has been my faithful instrument; a loyal tool. It may not be as quick or light or nimble as it once was, but it has served me well, and I am grateful for it. So no, you aren’t going to hear me disparaging this body’s weight, or its wrinkles, or its age spots. You aren’t going to hear me talking about this body as if it’s my enemy. This body deserves more than that. This body rocks!

        The elements and functions of the physical body and of the physical world will change as mortal mind changes its beliefs. What is now considered the best condition  for organic and functional health in the human body may no longer be found indispensable to health. Moral conditions will be found always harmonious and health-giving. Neither organic inaction nor overaction is beyond God’s control; and man will be found normal and natural to changed mortal thought, and therefore more harmonious in his manifestations than he was in the prior states which human belief created and sanctioned.
– Mary Baker Eddy

It’s All a Matter of Perspective

It’s all a matter of perspective… 🙂

baby otter checking me out

photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell

“Home!”

Okay, this little moment brought me a lot of joy yesterday: Moz and Dad and I went to a meeting yesterday afternoon (Mom had asked me to come down and go to a meeting with their bankers with them). I could tell the meeting was a struggle for Dad – he can’t hear well and was having a hard time keeping up with what was going on. The meeting took about an hour and then the folks loaded back into my car and I drove them to their new apartment. As soon as Dad walked into his new apartment his whole face lit up and he made his way to his favorite seat on the couch. When he sat down he smiled, let out a deep sigh of satisfaction, and said, “Home!”

I am so proud of Mom and Dad. They’ve made so many huge changes in the last couple months – and they’ve approached each new change with courage and fortitude and done what they needed to do. I know it wasn’t easy for Dad to leave the old homestead – “I loved this place,” he said as he sat at the kitchen counter of the homestead one last time – and then he put on his faithful alpine hat, took one last look around, turned off the lights, and headed out the door to his new life. And now, seeing him happy in his new home – that just means the world to me.

I asked him if there was anything I could bring him to his new home. He said no. He didn’t want material things anymore. He pointed to the books lying around him and said that as long as he’s surrounded by his mountain books, he’s home.

And Moz! Ohmygosh! She has just been amazing. She’s had to make so many decisions and choices in the last few months – and she hasn’t shirked from a single one – she’s done what she needed to do for Dad and for herself, and done it with grace and humor and courage.

I am really proud to be their daughter.

If You Have a Voice

If you have a voice…

If you have a voice

Behold, the ant!

Spirit duly feeds and clothes every object, as it appears in the line of spiritual creation, thus tenderly expressing the fatherhood and motherhood of God. Spirit names and blesses all. Without natures particularly defined, objects and subjects would be obscure, and creation would be full of nameless offspring, – wanderers from the parent Mind, strangers in a tangled wilderness.
Mary Baker Eddy

ant

Photo of peonies and ant by Karen Molenaar Terrell.

http://insects.about.com/od/antsbeeswasps/a/10-cool-facts-about-ants.htm

Limiting Beauty

If we believe that beauty…

beauty 2

Photo of blue butterfly by Karen Molenaar Terrell.

Disapproval

If we could save disapproval for the really big stuff…

Disapproval

“What have we got to work with here?”

  Soul has infinite resources with which to bless mankind… – 
Mary Baker Eddy

I recently found myself with a task in front of me that seemed insurmountable. There was a shortage of time and waaaay too much to do. I took a deep breath and asked myself, “Okay, what have we got to work with here?” That question had me thinking about that scene from The Princess Bride where Wesley the Farmboy asks, “What are our assets?” and takes stock of all that he and his allies have going for them – in their case they had a wheelbarrow, a holocaust cloak, and “brains, strength, and steel.”  I realized I had all the unlimited good of God available to me – I had all the intelligence I needed, all the inspiration I needed, all the energy and strength and courage I needed to get done what needed to be done.

And, in the end, I found I did! 🙂

Untitled

“I need to paint again.”

Every good painter paints what he is. – Jackson Pollock

Dad turned 97 at the end of June, and he and Mom (87) moved into a new home in a retirement community the next week. I’ve been so proud of the way they’ve forged ahead into this new adventure.

Last weekend I helped them unpack and unbox things in their new apartment – hung up pictures on the wall, cleared off the desk so Mom has a place to get organized, and cleared off the dining room table for Dad – showed him the box I’d packed for him full of watercolor paints, brushes, pencils. He said, “I need to paint again.” And then he filled up a cup with water, picked the brush he wanted, and THIS happened… 🙂

 

You Ain’t No Rutabaga

Just because someone calls you a rutabaga, doesn’t make you a rutabaga…

real identity

Photo of roses by Karen Molenaar Terrell.